


It Wasn't On The List

by Kelydoscope



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Mistborn - Brandon Sanderson, Wax and Wayne Series - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Book 3: Bands of Mourning, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25391854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelydoscope/pseuds/Kelydoscope
Summary: "I can't remember a time when I missed something for one of my lists only to have it be so wonderful."A view into Waxilliam and Steris's intimate nuptials and the beginnings of their honeymoon.  One-shot.
Relationships: Steris Harms/Waxillium "Wax" Ladrian
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	It Wasn't On The List

It Wasn’t on the List

Steris felt her her head spinning, her mind racing. He _truly_ wanted to be with her? Not just as agreed upon by the contract? She listened to his words, unbelieving as her mind drank them in.

“I’m painfully tired of being alone, Steris.” She watched his eyes, looking for any hint of deceit or caveat. “It’s time I admitted that. And you … well you’re incredible. You truly are.”

He meant it. She could feel it to her core. Rust and Ruin, he meant it! Her emotions flooded her, unbidden and unbridled by the chains and walls of her usual defenses. And Steris did _not_ cry daintily or appropriately. She reluctantly removed her hand from his grasp and sniffled, wiping her eyes and begging any god that would listen that she wouldn’t embarrass herself in front of the man she loved.

Waxilliam stiffened in front of her. “Is that …. good crying or bad?” She could hear the strain in his voice. It almost made her laugh. She explained the madness to her method while composing herself. _Stop crying! s_ he cursed inwardly. And then her logical mind caught up with her. “But tonight! So soon? Don’t the others deserve to attend a wedding?”

“They _did_ attend one,” Waxilliam said, grinning. “It’s not our fault there wasn’t a marriage at the end.” He paused, his posture strained again. “So … what do you thing? I mean, if you’re tired from the trip, don’t let me pressure you.”

What?! No! Steris felt the moment threatening to fall apart, like one of Wayne’s terrible jokes. Of course she wanted this. How could he not see it? Her mind raced again, heart pounding against her ribs. What could she say to convince him? She was dreadfully tired and completely unprepared; and yet …

“I just thought -”

Steris did the only thing she knew that would truly prove to Waxilliam that she was, indeed, ready to be his bride. She pushed herself up on her toes and pressed her lips against his, kissing him as hard as her exhausted form would allow.

-\\-\\-\\-\\-

Wax was caught completely off guard by the kiss. He stood perfectly still for the briefest of moments, then wrapped his arms around Steris’s waist and pulled her tight against his chest. Her hands found the front of his shirt and clung tightly to it. He craned his neck and hesitantly brushed his tongue against her lips; he didn’t want to push her or pressure her into anything. He resisted the urge to bite her lip as she tentatively opened her mouth to his; she tasted so sweet!

The priest clearing his throat awkwardly brought Waxilliam back to the present moment, and they ended their embrace. Wax could hear Steris’s slightly labored breathing and smirked. “Sorry, Father,” he said as he grasped his fiance’s hand between his own and led her down the hall.

“All is well, Lord Ladrian,” the Survivorist priest replied, shuffling his way to the makeshift alter prepared just inside the foyer of the penthouse suite. He dug through his pockets for a moment, then produced a small book with pages well-worn and marked with corners turned down throughout. He flipped through a section, muttering under his breath, then grunted with approval as he found the pages he needed. “Are we ready to begin?”

Waxilliam looked down at Steris and arched an eyebrow. He knew he was ready – and eager, even. But he didn’t want to push her…

-\\-\\-\\-\\-

Steris nodded enthusiastically, doing her damnedest to stifle a yawn. She’d slept decently on the air ship, why was she still so tired?! The priest nodded and began reciting the standard marriage monologue, speaking of the Survivor’s ascension and continued defiance of the laws of Life and Death – even Harmony stated that Kelsier was never good at doing what he was supposed to. Even the Survivor desired partnership in life, and that his love for Mare was ultimately what led to the development of his Mistborn powers – the traditional and necessary Snap of the Mind. Although, now it was more tame and humane to discover one’s allomantic powers.

“The power of Allomancy itself is second to the power of love and connection between two committed souls,” the priest continued. “The Survivor may not have been in our realm as Harmony ascended and brought forth the world in which we live, but his the beauty of his love can be seen across the Field of Rebirth – the Marewill flowers we ha-” the priest stumbled over his usual words, cleared his throat, and continued. “The Marewill flowers we _usually_ have before us on occasions such as this, are just one of the many tokens left in our world to remind us that, above all, we must continue to survive.”

Steris grinned at Waxilliam, and he in turn smiled softly at her. The priest dug in his other pockets and produced their wedding pendants, something that shocked Steris. “But … how?” she whispered, her hand coming to her lips as tears welled in her eyes.

Waxilliam’s smile turned into a silly smirk. “I had Drewton bring a set here for us,” he said, and took the pendant that was for Steris. He looked at the priest, who nodded and continued with is recitations.

“Waxilliam Ladrian, High Lord of you house, descendant of The Counselor of Gods. Please repeat after me…”

-\\-\\-\\-\\-

Wax’s hands were trembling, but not from fear or anguish. He was anxious to get this right – for Steris. She deserved only the best. He only wished their first attempt at this had run a little more smoothly. He cleared his throat, and followed the priest’s guidance through his Survivorist vows. “May my hands be of Steel, to push away the darkness; my body be of Pewter, as a pillar of unwavering strength; my mind be of Tin, always alert and aware; my heart of Zinc, always alive with our love.”

The priest nodded, and Waxilliam gently placed the pendant around Steris’s neck, clicking the clasp closed quickly so that he could hold her hands in his once more. “With this pendant, I ask you to be mine.”

-\\-\\-\\-\\-

Steris could no longer hold back her tears. They streamed down her face and below the neck of her dress. She clasped Waxilliam’s pendant tightly, and prepared herself for her own vows. Of course, she had them memorized, but she followed the priest’s instruction regardless. “May my hands by Iron, to pull in all that is light; my words be Brass, a place of comfort and peace; my mind be Bronze, always listening; my heart of Zinc, always alive with our love.” She let out a gentle sob of joy as she clasped the chain around Waxilliam’s neck, the silver pendant laying softly against his rustled cravat. “With this pendant, I ask you to be mine.”

She barely heard the priest continue along his speech, and nearly missed Waxilliam’s reply to the ultimate question. “I do,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

Blinking away another waive of tears, Steris forced herself to focus on the priest. She refused to mess this part up.

“Steris Harms, daughter of the High Lord of you house, descendant of the Lord Mistborn, do you swear to uphold your oaths as a wife, in prosperity and ill-fortune, in sickness and in health, so long as you both survive?”

Her gaze locked with Waxilliam’s once again. She stared into the depths of his brown eyes; in just the right light, they were pools of honey poured out over glistening stones. She could see the fire burning behind them, his passion for justice and yearning to do what was right.

“I do,” she whispered, voice catching in her throat. “Always.”

With a tired smile, the priest said, “With the powers vested in me by the Survivor, Harmony, and the great city of Elendel, I here and now pronounce you husband and wife.” He nodded to Wax, who didn’t even wait for the traditional invitation. His hands cupped Sterris’s face gently, the calluses brushing against the softness of her flushed cheeks, and he pulled her to him reverently. She leaned toward him, a delicate sigh escaping her as their lips touched. She buried her hands in the folds of his shirt once again, clinging to him. She opened her mouth to his as he teased her lips with his tongue. Despite all the research and studying and preparation she had crammed into her daily schedule, she was still absolutely in awe of how it felt to be kissed like this. Steris let Waxilliam control the situation, barely aware that the priest shuffled away and back out into the hallway.

-\\-\\-\\-\\-

Wax heard the door to the penthouse close with a click, and he let that be his signal to push forward. His right hand trailed down Steris’s neck slowly, fingers dancing under her jaw before sliding behind her head, touch aimed for her hair pins. He could feel her pulse racing beneath her skin. Was she frightened? Anxious? Excited? A mixture of all three, he hoped. His fingers worked adeptly with the little pins that held her hair in place – made from bone, it seemed. She was already picking up his habits of using non-metal items. Wax pulled away from her as her silken locks fell down past her shoulders. She was panting, cheeks pink, eyes alight. He resisted the raging, primal urge to pin her against the entry table and tear her dress away. No, he would go slowly and be patient. He could show her the ways of the Roughs another night. Perhaps tomorrow night…

“Lord Waxilliam?” Her breathy voice snapped his attention back from his runaway thoughts.

“Steris,” he said, trying not to growl. “I think it’s high time you called me Wax.” He let his fingers comb through her golden hair, which she seemed to enjoy.

“Wax…” she sighed and closed her eyes. A tear slipped from her eye and dripped down her cheek.

Wax froze. “Steris, if you’re not ready for this…” He’d already pushed too far, hadn’t he? She wasn’t ready for things to move this quickly, despite the closeness they had gained these last few days. _Always plowing through like an uncontrolled stallion_ he cursed to himself. She had been studying anatomy for Harmony’s sake.

-\\-\\-\\-\\-

Steris snapped her eyes open. “What? No!” she nearly yelped. “Lor-erm… Wax. No, I am as prepared as I could possibly manage.” She felt her body tense into knots and her heart leapt into her throat. “I’m quite knowledgeable on the mechanics of …. things. I just…” Her voice hitched as her stomach tightened. She could feel the tremors all the way through the tips of fingers. Her words continued to jumble, and she stammered over herself.

“Shhh,” Waxilliam cooed, his left hand still cupping her cheek, thumb stroking her skin. She blushed even harder. “You can read a thousand books, prepare for a million hours, and still not be ready for this. And that’s okay. I’ll admit, it’s a little different than how I imagined the evening going, but we can just … sit and talk. Or not. It’s been such a long day; even with the rest on the ship, you must be exhausted.”

She felt another waive of tears. No, that isn’t what she wanted! Her wedding night was supposed to be a night of endless passion, of boundless delight, filled with … things from the dreadful three clip novels she secretly hid inside tax law books. They had absolutely no sense of direction with the story, but the love scenes. Steris would never admit to enjoying such items of indiscretion, and she had never intended to _enjoy_ them as she had. They were merely research tools, a way for her to gain insight into what should be the highlight of her wedding day. Instead, they turned into a forbidden temptation that she just could not ignore.

Her mind raced as Wax stood with her, his hands now on her shoulders. No, no, no! This isn’t how it’s supposed to turn out! Her gaze darted around – how were things laid out here? The penthouse seemed to be a large, single room suite with a small divider at the end of the room, the sheer panels providing a small but adequate barrier between the sleeping quarters and the sitting area of the room. A small kitchenette was in one corner with the basics – a gas stove with a small oven chamber, sink, and cabinetry. The lavatory in its own room, close to the sleeping quarters.

She took this all in then nodded to herself. “Yes, okay.” Steris was grounded again. Quickly, she untied the scarf from around the collar of her dress, the skin of her neck laid bare. Her hands then moved to the buttons on the front of her dress and, shaking, she started to undo them.

-\\-\\-\\-\\-

Waxilliam’s eyes bulged in his head. “Steris…?” he said, reaching toward her hands. She stopped mid-button, the cloth of her dress now loose around her collarbone, her scarf discarded to the floor. He could see the flush from her cheeks growing deeper and lower, the pinkness blossoming down her neck and chest.

“Steris, wait.” He took her hands in his and drew her close to him again. She kept her head bowed; he could feel her entire body trembling. “Please don’t think that I want you to … force yourself into something like this.”

Her body shook harder for just a moment, and then she looked up at him. Her eyes were red, tears staining her cheeks. “Waxilliam,” she said, voice cracking. “I am not being forced. This is -” Steris stopped and took a deep breath, her eyes closed tight for just a moment. “It’s my wedding night; our wedding night. It is entirely appropriate to consummate our marriage. I just … haven’t made a list.”

Wax could see her mind churning behind her eyes. She was terrified. But there was a glimmer of something else in that icy blue gaze. He could see the flickering flames of passion buried beneath her anxieties. “Are you sure – I mean _absolutely_ sure?”

-\\-\\-\\-\\-

Steris met his gaze again. In the shadows, the brown in his eyes was nearly black, but she still saw the raw passion burning there. She was terrified, but in the same way that she was when Waxilliam flew her through the air. “Please,” she whispered, not daring to look away from him. “Show me.”

Suddenly, his arms were around her and his lips were crushed against hers. She tilted her head back and let him take control once again. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth and she gasped. She could feel him tensing up again; her right hand snaked up from the front of his shirt to burry in his hair, and she pulled him toward her. _Don’t stop, don’t you dare,_ she screamed in her mind. Her words wouldn’t work, like her brain had unplugged from her voice.

Wax grunted in reply, slowly backing her toward the partition by the bed. He stopped, but only long enough to scoop her up and carry her to the edge of the bed. “Can’t break every tradition, now can we?” he muttered, giving her no chance to reply as he pulled her into another passionate embrace. She traced her tongue against his lips, as he’d done with her. She felt him smile as he opened his mouth to her, tongues gently exploring. Steris let her hands move to his cravat, untucking and untying the material with a deft touch. She pulled it away, then let her hand wander down to his wooden shirt buttons. They easily slipped through the slits in his shirt, and in moments, she was tugging the fabric loose from his trousers.

Steris felt Waxilliam’s hands move from her back forward to the buttons on her dress, and he easily continued what she’d started. He made quick work of the top layer, and started tugging the fabric down her shoulders. She didn’t give him a moment to hesitate and shrugged out of the sleeves, only breaking away from his lips to yank the fabric past her hands. There she stood, in just her shift and corset, hands pressed against his chest and slowly moving their way up to his shoulders and then the back of his head. She felt his growl in her own mouth, then gasped loudly as he pulled away and attacked her neck. His teeth nipped delicately against her tender skin; her fingers dug deeper into his hair. She was on _fire._

-\\-\\-\\-\\-

Wax kept his left arm wrapped tightly around Steris’s waist while his right hand maneuvered its way through the knot on the back of her corset. The last time he’d removed one of these, he’d just steel-pushed the metal ribs apart until the fabric ripped away. He was out of practice with the strings, and he doubted Steris would want him destroying her wardrobe – for now. He sucked and nipped at the skin just below her jaw, enjoying the gasps and whimpers she let slip. Her veneer was cracking, the mask slipping. He could feel the slightest remnant of the prim-and-proper Steris hanging on, afraid to let go and give in.

That was okay, he could take his time. Wax continued his ministrations, finally giving in and working the strings with both hands. How was she even breathing with this thing tied so tightly around her body? He sensed her back straighten as the laces finally loosened, and then he felt her hands come up to start undoing the bone buttons at the front.

Steris pulled away from him ever so slightly, then let her corset drop to the ground. He looked down at her, grinning. Her cheeks were red, the flush of excitement having grown all the way down past the top of her shift; her shoulders were even a little pink. He could see the beginnings of love bite marks forming on her neck; he hoped those would dissipate before she got the chance to find a mirror. Her eyes met his once more and her lips twitched into a sheepish grin. He could see now with certainty that she was, indeed, very comfortable with the night continuing just as it had been.

Waxilliam pulled her against him again, her breasts pressing against him through the fabric of her shift and – were her breasts _bigger?_ He looked down at her again, his hands on her waist. They were _huge!_ “What the …” he muttered, fascinated.

Steris blushed even deeper, unconsciously wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s unbecoming for a lady to flaunt such … endowments.” She squirmed slightly, “I hope you don’t mind my deception.”

The laugh was out of his mouth before he could even think. “Mind?” he asked, incredulous. “Steris, I … No, I do _not_ mind.” Wax reached for her, then hesitated. He locked gazes with her and waited for her nod. Then, tenderly, he cupped her breasts, grinning like a teenage boy. He could barely fit them in his hands. He let his thumbs trace her nipples, the stiffened digits pressing through the fabric with eagerness. Steris whimpered and closed her eyes; he could feel her heart hammering in her chest.

Her hands skimmed up his chest and gripped the edges of his shirt, then tentatively slid the fabric down his arms. He only disconnected his hands from her chest long enough to shrug out of the sleeves, then returned to his exploration of territory. Wax bent again to kiss along her neck, this time running his tongue along the edge of her collarbone as he found his way down. She trembled against him.

-\\-\\-\\-\\-

Steris could barely keep her legs still. She clung to the waist of his trousers, pressing against his hands as he fondled her breasts, flicking his thumb against her tight nipples periodically. Leaning against him, she let her right hand snake behind her own back and dislodge the simple silk tie that held her shift closed at the neck. The fabric drooped and Wax met found her eyes again. She simply smiled and kissed him, teasing his lips with her tongue. She was disappointed to break the kiss, but knew he wouldn’t take anything off of her without expressed permission; Survivor bless that man and his compassion. As she backed away, her legs hit the edge of the bed and sent a jolt of anticipation up her spine.

This was really happening. It wasn’t just a wild daydream she lost herself in on a carriage ride. Her anatomy and “wifely duties” books had not entirely prepared her for this night, but she knew she would not be surprised by his … manliness. Hopefully. Steris slipped out of her shoes and gently kicked them under the edge of the bed, losing another half inch of height to Waxilliam. He just grinned, undoing his belt and slinging it on the floor. His hands moved for the buttons at the top of his pants, but Steris grasped them. Wax looked at her with concerned eyes.

“I’m okay,” she said, her voice husky. “May I…?” She was timid but refused to let that spike of adrenaline turn into the grasp of fear.

Wax nodded and brushed his hand against her cheek, seeming to understand her need for a sense of control. Just for a little while. Despite her deep yearning for him to lead their intimacy this night, her racing mind just needed something to keep her distracted from the two hundred concerns bounding through her thoughts like wild horses.

She undid the top two buttons and cursed under her breath as her fingers slipped with the third and last one. She could feel his arousal pressing against her touch; a sudden twitch from his manhood gave her a start and she _ripped_ the fly of his trousers open. “Oh!”

His hands found hers and he brought them to his lips, once again seeming to check on her state of mind. Steris blushed, but nodded again. She really did want this, she just … wasn’t accustomed to being in such uncharted territory. How she’d wished those women had shared some of their experiences with her…

Wax stepped back and removed his shoes, then stepped out of his pants, His undershorts were straining against his desire for her; while it was moderately intimidating, her pride vastly overshadowed the negative twinge in her mind. He wanted her just as badly as she wanted him.

“Would you like to lie down?” he whispered, pulling her against him once again. Waxilliam cradled her securely, one arm wrapped around her waste and the other twined up her back and playing with her hair. It felt as if her heart would burst from her chest and fly off into the mists without her.

Steris nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Yes.”

Wax helped her shrug out of her shift, leaving the light cotton material pooled on the floor. He then guided her down onto the bed, her hand tight in his. She fought the urge to cover herself immediately. She still had her own undershorts on, the briefs tied daintily at one side of her hips with a silk strand.

She watched as his gaze shifted from her face to her chest, then lower, slowly taking in the sight of her mostly naked on the bed. Steris blushed and felt the warmth grow from her cheeks, down her chest, and through her abdomen. _None_ of her books said anything about _this_.

-\\-\\-\\-\\-

Waxilliam wanted to pounce her like a lion, devour her, gorge himself on her beauty. How had he _never_ realized how stunning she was? Her flushed cheeks and chest brought elegant contrast to the rest of her pale skin. Her blond locks sprawled out around her face, curls darting this way and that. He could see she was still shaking, but not like she had been before.

He moved to lay beside her on the bed, eyes not leaving hers, and braced himself beside her. Her eyes followed him all the way, glancing down as his eagerness brushed against her thigh. He let his hand brush her cheek again, thumb grazing her rosy lips, then trailed his fingers down her neck. He brushed a strand of hair from her collarbone, then kissed the spot tenderly. Digits played against the skin just above her breasts; he let his thumb dip down and skim her dusky nipple. He grinned at the little gasp it brought out. He paid equal attention to the other breast, then traced his hand down her abdomen, letting his palm come to rest just above the hem of her undershorts. He kissed her on the lips again, slowly, deliberately. As much as he wanted to dive in head first and ravish her senseless, Wax forced himself to move slowly. Steris deserved as much, and if he were being honest, he hadn’t exactly had any recent experience himself. _They say it’s just like riding a horse…_

Steris grasped his forearms and pulled herself into a sitting position. He helped her up the rest of the way, their bare chests pressed together, then wrapped his arms around her. They sat in silence, breathing deeply and holding to one another for moments that stretched into eternity. Wax squeezed her gently in his embrace, then kissed her forehead. “Steris…” he whispered, almost a question.

He felt her nod under his chin. Wax laid them both down, cradling her against him, then tilted his head to kiss her gently. With some difficulty, he pulled away from her lips, then began to kiss his way down her neck, her decolletage. He lingered on her breasts, giving them equal attention. He felt Steris grip the sheets at her sides. His hands found hers, and he gingerly raised her arms above her head, squeezing her fingers between his. Her back arched against him, and he heard her bite off another moan. Wax wanted to tell her to let go, to be free with her noises – Rust and Ruin, he certainly wanted to hear them. But he held his tongue. She was such a tightly wound creature, he didn’t want to ruin this by opening his mouth when he shouldn’t.

Waxilliam smiled against her supple breasts, teasingly nipping at her skin to draw more sounds from her. She squirmed against him, pressing his face harder against her chest. At least he hadn’t lost his touch. With a swift movement, his hands were cupping her breasts again. He let his lips brush against her left nipple, then darted his tongue against the peaked flesh. Her breath hitched; Wax grinned devilishly. He continued to flick his tongue against her nipple, then pulled it between his lips. He could feel her struggling to contain herself – good.

-\\-\\-\\-\\-

Steris clung to the pillow above her head as if it were the only thing keeping her from bursting into the air like a coinshot. What was he doing to her?! She felt as if her soul itself was on fire, burning from her chest to her core. His lips moved from one nipple to the other and she bit down on her lip again. It was so unladylike to moan like a beast in the bedroom. That’s what she’d read, anyway. A good wife allows her husband to enjoy her body and she should take pleasure in his undivided attention. He rolled her nipple between his lips, and Steris felt her eyes roll back, despite having squeezed them shut. She let out a shuttering breath she didn’t even realize she was holding.

She relished in his kisses along her body, but stiffened slightly as he made his way lower, kissing her navel, then descending further. He brushed his lips along the edge of her undershorts, then tenderly untied the silk string at the side. Oh, this was it. Steris felt her hands begin to shake again, but she clutched them tightly against the pillow. No, she would let him enjoy her body – she could do that.

He tugged lightly against the fabric at her waist, and she tilted her hips so he could remove it easily. His callused hands against her smooth legs send a wave of tremors down her spine. He continued to caress her legs, apparently very pleased with the latest trend in women’s “bedroom fashion”. Steris had read in several ladies’ only papers that shaved legs – and other places – were the best way to keep a husband happy at home.

“Very nice,” he mumbled, then sat back on his knees to gaze down at her from between her feet.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her gaze immediately drew to his groin, manhood ready and attentive beneath his undershorts. _Oh Survivor help me…_ she thought, letting her eyes wander up to his. His expression was kind, compassionate, but beneath the calm she could see the storm raging. He knew exactly what he wanted. Steris only wished she knew how to give it to him.

She watched as his gaze wandered past her breasts to her womanhood, which wasn’t shaved smooth like her legs, but trimmed neatly. Her hands had trembled too much on the train, which was the last chance she’d had to practice. Waxilliam bit his lip as he took it all in. “You aresuch a gem,” he said softly, his hands back on her legs, massaging her calves. He bent down toward her and she instinctively parted her legs for him. She let her eyes squeeze shut again, clutching the pillow above her head. His lips against her hips was surprising, but she leaned into them. He did know how to make her feel appreciated. She sighed as he continued to kiss just above her core, curious but not frightened.

Her eyes fluttered open just as he ducked his head between her legs. _Where is he-_ Her mind went absolutely blank as his lips met her nether ones. He wasted no time, tongue darting out to lap at her juices – when had she gotten so wet? She growled in pleasure as he grazed her clitoris with his lips; he grasped it between his lips and she lost all control. She groaned and thrust her hips up against his face, the only thing keeping her thighs from crushing against him were his hands. He held her legs with a firm grip and continued his devious attentions to her womanhood. Steris bucked against him, mind reeling as she flailed beneath his touch.

-\\-\\-\\-\\-

Wax couldn’t help but chuckle against her skin, then pulled back just long enough to catch his breath. “That’s what I want to hear,” he muttered, then returned to her nether lips. Harmony, she tasted perfect. He swirled his tongue around her nub, then removed his right hand from her thigh and brought a finger to her entrance. His gaze lifted from her womanhood to her face, which was red and tilted up toward the sky. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath, her gasps gravelly and rough from her loud and wonderous moans. Seeing her so relaxed and so truly uncovered. “So beautiful,” he said as he rubbed his finger against her clitoris. She spasmed against him again, crying out.

He kissed her stomach, then gingerly pressed his finger against her entrance. She whimpered and spread her legs to him. Waxilliam pushed his digit inside her, feeling muscles flex against him, moving for the first time against resistance. He moved slowly, letting her body accept him. His mouth returned to her womanhood, licking, sucking, caressing. She was moaning loudly now, one hand slapping down on the sheets beside her and the other twisted in the pillow above her. Wax could feel her climbing to the peak of pleasure; it wouldn’t be long now. He kept his pace moderate, but hastened when the hand at her side suddenly gasped his hair and pushed his face harder against her. He groaned against her flesh as her nails bit against his scalp. _Any moment now…_ he thought, feeling her inner muscles begin to tighten around his digit.

-\\-\\-\\-\\-

Steris exploded. She was a stick of dynamite, the fuse finally burning to the end. She dug both hands into Waxilliam’s hair, her back arching as she pressed against his scalp. After all the preparation, all the reading, and all of the ladies’ papers, her mind couldn’t even be bothered that she was screaming. Her throat was already sore from groaning against his touch, but now … She had absolutely no control. Her legs spasmed, toes curled under so tightly she thought they might break. Steris felt her voice crack as she tried to breathe. Could she even remember how to do that? She barely registered Waxilliam crawling up to lay beside her, her body still contorted and twitching slightly. Her breath came in shallow pants as he wrapped his arms around her loosely. She finally managed to get her body to react to her thoughts and moved her hands up to clutch his right arm. Her legs drew up tightly, body still shivering.

“Wh-what was that?” she rasped, pressing her head against his shoulder as she tried to slow her gasps.

“That,” he said, holding her close and brushing her frazzled hair away from her face. “was an orgasm, my love.”

Steris furrowed her brow and managed to tilt her head enough to meet his gaze. “My books only mentioned men reaching orgasm in coitus,” she said, finally able to still her tremors. “It’s necessary for impregnation. The-”

“Yes, I know exactly how that works,” Waxilliam said, smiling at her. “But it’s not exclusively a male function. Do none of these books explain the _pleasure_ derived from … procreating?”

She shook her head. “A proper wife is to let her husband enjoy her body while trying for a child.” His raised eyebrows and wide eyes were not what she was expecting. “I mean, there are scientific explanations of the female anatomy – and yes, the clitoris is understood to have the sole purpose of stimulation – but in a marriage-”

“We treat each other equally,” he said, voice firm but still kind. “Steris, I would _never_ simply ‘enjoy your body’ and be done with you. That’s … That’s just ridiculous. Where’s the fun in that?”

“Fun?”

He grinned at her. “Don’t you think what we just did was fun? I certainly enjoyed it.” His eyes were still ravenous.

“Well, yes. I mean – I -” She was stumbling over her words again. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; Steris hated losing her wits. “It was very much enjoyable, but Waxilliam, you’ve yet to … erm…” She waived her hand about and her cheeks flushed. “You know.”

Wax smiled at her, thumb brushing her lips. “Oh, I am definitely aware.” They both looked at his groin – his undershorts were still tented above his solid member. “I wanted to make absolutely sure you enjoyed this as much as I do.” He held her gaze, expression serious. “I mean it, Steris. We’re equals in this. You’re not just a bank account or a baby maker. You’re my partner.”

Steris felt her eyes watering and tears left the corners of her eyes, unbidden. “Waxilliam…” she breathed.

His tender touch wiped away the salty streaks, and his lips found hers in a gentle kiss. “I love you, Steris. Let me show you just how much.” Before she could object, he was kissing his way back down her body. Oh, Survivor! She wasn’t sure she could handle another round of _that._ However, Waxilliam only pressed gentle kisses against her sensitive pearl – eliciting a rasped groan – then he moved himself between her legs. Somewhere in his shuffle, he managed to remove his undershorts. His member was … Well, exactly what she’d expected. Steris had spent as much time as she could on understanding the male anatomy and basic physiological statistics. He was above average height, his hands were slightly larger than most, and his shoes were slightly larger than average sizes sold, so it was more than safe to assume his penis would be appropriately proportioned. She tried not to gape but … well, it was a very good specimen. She could appreciate that.

-\\-\\-\\-\\-

Wax watched as Steris observed him. She simply nodded, then rested her head on her pillow so she could keep her gaze on him. He shifted so his tip was pressed between her nether lips, slicking his length with her juices and rubbing her clitoris against his shaft. He closed his eyes and sighed. She whimpered and pressed her hips up against him. This was _not_ going to be a marathon performance. He was too … unaccustomed to a woman’s intimate touch. He would regain his stamina in time, he was sure. But tonight … Well, at least he’d made sure she came first.

His tip came to rest against her entrance and he waited, watching her chest rise and fall as her breath quickened again. Wax pushed slowly, as delicately as possible. Her canal accepted his length eagerly, and he could feel her muscles tightening again. He sat motionless once he was sheathed to his hilt, resisting the urge to thrust against her. _Don’t hurt her trying to get your rocks off_ , he chastised internally. His eyes found hers. Her eyes were strained, and he started to remove himself. She shook her head; he felt one of her heels hook behind his knee.

“Enjoy me,” she breathed, her hand brushing against his as he gripped her hips. “Please.”

Waxilliam grunted, then shifted them carefully. He pulled her leg up to his hip as he moved to brace himself over her, the tips of her nipples brushing against his chest as they moved. Her breath caught in her throat, and he kissed her, forehead pressed against hers. “You’ll tell me if I hurt you?” he asked quietly.

Steris only kissed him in return. “Make love to me, Wax.”

He didn’t need another ounce of encouragement or permission. He started their pace slowly, as he had done before. She gasped and caught his bottom lip between hers. He moaned as they rocked together. Wax increased their pace, feeling his desire building quickly, as he’d anticipated. Steris lifted her other leg and crossed her ankles behind him. He squeezed her hips and happily met her hips as she lifted them in time with his. Her breathy moans echoed through the penthouse. He braced himself, hand planted beside her shoulder. He was getting close. He closed his eyes as her hand wrapped around his forearm, nails digging into his scarred skin. “Steris,” he breathed, kissing her hungrily.

Waxilliam let himself focus on the sounds of their love-making – her moans of pleasure coursing through his own mouth as they kissed, skin against skin, the bed straining ever so slightly with their movements. She broke away from his lips, groaning harshly. Her back arched and her breasts pressed into his chest. He could feel her tightening around him. He tried to hold himself back, keep his control long enough to bring her to ecstasy again.

“Wax!” she screamed, nails biting his arm, breaking the skin.

He fell over the edge. Try as he might, he couldn’t help but crush his hips against hers, pounding against her as he came. He growled her name in her ear, their cheeks pressed tightly against one another. His thrusts quickly dissolved into spasms, and he nearly lost his balance. His arms trembled as he kept himself above Steris, but she eagerly wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down to her.

They lay together, clinging to one another as they panted. Steris nuzzled his neck, seemingly contented. He let himself roll to the side, arms snaking around her waist and back, keeping her tight against him as they shifted. She draped a leg over his hip and he moved his own around her other leg, deftly entangling them.

After a few glorious moments, Wax began to feel the coalescing of perspiration and other evidence of their acts. He moved carefully out of the bed, then strode to the sink just inside the lavatory. He grabbed a soft wash cloth, wet it with the running water available there – it still amazed him that they could plumb a building this high in the air – and brought it to Steris, who was now propped up against the headboard of the bed. “I can -”

“No, thank you,” she said curtly. “I think I can manage.” She stood and moved behind the changing screen to clean herself up.

He smirked, but didn’t chide her for her sudden urge for privacy. She came back to the bed with a dressing gown wrapped around her, but tied loosely so her cleavage was visible at the top and he could _almost_ see her groomed womanhood through the slit of the gown. She handed him a similar, but larger, dressing gown and he just draped it over the chair, having retrieved his undershorts off the floor and slid them in place.

Steris climbed into the bed shuffling the sheets so her feet were tucked under the edge. He climbed into bed next to her, arm draping around her shoulder almost instinctively. She drew close to him and he cradled her to his chest. While she had stepped away, he’d used another cloth to scrub up their stain from the sheets, and he was glad to have not recovered any blood. He’d heard that women could experience something like that after their first time but … Well, he’d never been with a woman for her first time before.

“Was I enjoyable?” she asked suddenly, her tone relaxed as if she’d asked him for a broadsheet.

“Wha- Steris!” He drew back, eyes wide. “You were absolutely _wonderful_.” He kissed her forehead. “I just hope I was up to snuff.”

“Having nothing to compare it to,” she mused, “I would safely assume that you were, indeed, enjoyable.” She couldn’t keep a straight face with that one. The smirk quirked her lips and drew her eyebrow up before she could hide it.

Waxilliam sighed and pulled her close again. “We’ll have to change that, you know.”

“What? Your performance? I rather-” she began.

“No, no.” he chuckled. “Having nothing to compare. You can’t make a proper list of possibilities if you haven’t done the adequate research.”

Steris smiled up at him, genuinely pleased. He brushed an errant strand of hair from her face, then kissed her tenderly. “But maybe we can get some rest before we take on another research project.”

They yawned almost simultaneously.

“Yes, indeed,” she mumbled. “It’s been quite an exciting few days, Lord Ladrian.”

Wax smiled as they settled down in the bed, her head on the pillow by his shoulder, snuggled tightly under the sheets with her arms wrapped around his. “Yes they have been, Lady Ladrian.” He felt her smile against his chest.

Soon they were both sleeping soundly, mists curling gently against the windows in the night.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time writing in over 5 years, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't proud of this piece. Brandon Sanderson's works have lit a fire under me that I thought I'd never feel again.
> 
> Steris and Wax have such a complex relationship and I love how Sanderson has developed them, both as separate characters and as a couple, throughout this series. I couldn't help myself from writing that beautifully missed scene between them.


End file.
